Best Revisit Poems
My eyes have not grown too weak or dim
to ignore what they've long been seeing
pretenders who wear a mask of disguise
like a skier who's not proficient at skiing
Everyone who labels him/herself a 'poet'
thinks he's composed brilliant words, versed
but lacks ability, and some of us know it,
and receives high praise; payback reimbursed
Is it because some seek insincere empty words
to gain a like response as a misbegotten debt?
Could it be they want undeserved admiration
for posting things a serious poet would regret?
And what of time consuming contest entries
that tower in skilled verse above most of the rest,
only to see everyone received a first place finish
when theirs is ignored but clearly one of the best.
IT'S A SLAP IN THE FACE!!!
Let's not overlook when the final results are in
those who give nods to each other as number one
It's obvious they don't always deserve the win.
Doesn't that spoil both the challenge and the fun?
Go ahead and point out that I shouldn't complain
because I stopped entering contests months ago
and seldom post on a site where some would reign.
but I discover things that make me say, "WHOA!"
Not so many fake names appear by a cheating judge
and I thank all of those who plowed that farrow
There are times when we all need a bit of a nudge
to make sure the path we walk is straight and narrow
Now I've learned that the advertisement displays
are prohibiting Connie Wong from enjoying her part
in reading and commenting in her loveliest of ways.
Connie is a talented poet, with a pure, loving heart.
My premium membership is up at the end of May
by now you've gathered that I'll not be renewing
but I'll still occasionally post on any given day.
Thank you for reading what has long been brewing
Comments are welcome if you would like to share
your thoughts, agreeable and even if they're not
We all have opinions; a community should care
about problems...unless you just don't give a squat
and if that's the case, I totally understand that, too
care
enough
to let go
just for a while
like a moth to a flame, he will return
26/05/2011... 13:35
Memories of him are still there upon Weymouth Road
his sullen white cross nailed to the old Kauri
symbolize by countless layers of uncaring street wise graffiti,
while burdensome scars revealed by heavy metal grow faint
and the old Rose i placed withered and faded
in the over grown yet still blood stained grass,
a monument still there for the few of us
those that cared those with lives full of guilt
'when you mate ran out of life number nine!'
© Harry J Horsman 2013
I would love to run after the midnight sun
And visit the fjords, museums, and shops
I would take to the forests on the run
And pick berries and hike the mountain tops
Oslo Norway I saw thru the eyes of a child
And in those five years, I became a Viking
There was skiing, skating, and fishing in the wild
There was cod and cheese-all to my liking
This time I would take pictures of the city
Of the steepled roofs and nude statues
And get me a Norwegian sweater that's so pretty
To wear on my return trip on that fun cruise
12/31/22
Take Me There Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Margarita Lillico
N/A-(this is disappointing. I'm not going to lie. I can't write any
better than this.)
Revisit.
I would like to revisit those days,
Of mine younghood,
When I hoped for the best in life,
I would like to think of the innocence within,
The hopes of things unknown,
The face held up high,
Onto the mountain above me
I saw and heard them,
Saw them leading lives,
I envied I had,
I heard them say those words,
Of how great they were,
Enjoyed every bit of it
I wondered when I would hold the mantle,
And run for the battle ,
Of killing pessimism,
Inside my young heart,
'Tis on that rainy morning,
When my teeth hurt,
My head ached,
Like pangs of fire in my soul,
That I entered the hose of solace,
With men dressed in white,
Stethoscopes in hand,
That I made an about-turn,
To save both friend and foe,
My dream had began,
I was meant to run,
For the future so bright,
Whether it took a fight
Poor I was,
with no pence to mine name,
Rugged regalia under corrugated iron roof,
Shaky desks and whitewashed tin wall,
But I had to make it after all,
Days of tears and days of mild happiness,
Seasons of scarce and seasons of plenty,
Moments of pain and moments of gain,
followed the tender heart that was me,
For that future I had to see
I stand tall among giants,
Praying to grow one day,
And reach for them moons,
I still have to stay,
awake and alert,
Till that day wilt become my stay
Read mine lips the blind,
Sing my song the voiceless,
Walk to the mountaintops , ye the crippled,
Hear my chant ye the deaf,
For your day is here!
Breaking concentration,
Losing conscious of this
Undivided world (yea right!!!!!!!)
I see rainbows repetitiously
of the contradictions it's met with, right along
With a pot of gold
the short night
revisits the sheets
— two beers in hand
8/8/2018
To revisit the past is to
Go back and try to fit
Into an old pair of I'll fitted
Shoes that never truly fit well at
All in the first place
We are not able to go back
For a reason even if we
Can't see the reasoning in
The present mindset
Clarity comes in due time
Closure comes in due time
Don't try and figure out the
Things that the present self
Can't comprehend in time it's
Current state of being
You think it's easy being dead?
Well, thanks for stopping, glad you came,
I hope you'll not forget my name,
I'm looking forward to the day,
When you'll be coming back to stay.
Dead came? Forget, forward, and stay...
Inspired by my original poem Epitaph, published on Poetry Soup on July 8, 2026